


Vienna Waits

by liketogetlost



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 05:36:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketogetlost/pseuds/liketogetlost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His hand was offered and accepted, just like always, as they stepped onto the dance floor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vienna Waits

**Author's Note:**

> [Reference](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vienna#Vienna_balls)

The night of the 1948 Vienna Opera Ball was excessively decadent, as was one Rose Tyler.

His breath was sufficiently taken away at first sight of her, a vision in puffy cream silk and bows, blonde curls falling from her head and tickling her shoulders, which were naked and a apple too ripe to resist. Her squeal at his own attire snapped him out of his reverie and he let her marvel at the look of him in white tie and tails. They walked to the ball from their close by hotel, which she insisted on them getting because she wanted to sleep beneath the 1948 sky as well.

When they arrived, he made it a point to watch her as she feasted her eyes on the beauty of the room. He turned away all drinks offered to him, as her wide eyes and grinning smile were all he needed to feel high.

His hand was offered and accepted, just like always, as they stepped onto the dance floor.

"You know what they say about a man who can dance well." The lights of the ballroom twinkled in her eyes like stars as she peered up at him, teasing through her dark lashes. The blush in her cheeks could be mistaken for embarrassment but he knew better, knew it was the champagne she couldn't resist because it was so bubbly and danced across her tongue.

"Are you being cheeky, Rose Tyler?" He gripped the side of her waist tighter, smooth and curved and perfect beneath his palm and the bodice of her gown of which the bottom dusted the marble floor with each sway and step they took.

Her laugh drew looks and whispers and he held her closer to his chest, feeling the soft, inviting press of her breasts through his formal jacket. "Anyhow, it's all true." His voice rumbled against her ear and made her stumble and brace herself in his arms.

They made conversation with politicians and actresses, billionaires and middle class everymen. All of the men, and some of the women, undressed her with their eyes but it was his hand, a steady guard on the small of her back, that kept them thinking twice.

They danced until her shoes were kicked off, stockinged feet slipping across the floor and letting her skate into his arms with a yelp and a giggle. Until he dipped her one too many times and she came up dizzy headed, tempting him to do it one more time too many with her hand pulling at the back of his neck. Until her lips were bare of lip color and his tie was left streaked a tell tale pink. Until the sun threatened to rise and her bare shoulders began to tease and taunt, muscles sliding beneath skin and drawing his gaze downward. They made their way back to their hotel in the early dawn of the Vienna sky, pink and soft like he thought her lips might be. The pavement both warm in the sun rays and cool in the shade beneath her bare feet, shoes hooked over the fingers of one hand and his palm just warm enough like usual against her other.

By the time they made it to the hall outside their doors, her hair was loose and sweet smelling brushed across his cheek as they hugged goodnight. And he held her in his arms just a second too long like she was the night they had shared, like once he let go it would be over and though he was used to letting moments go, he wanted to hold onto this one. But his hands slipped from her waist and her arms slid down his chest and he breathed out, chest shaky with apprehension.

"Goodnight, then. Rose." He whispered almost too slight to hear and tried not to stare.

His tie was undone, two strands around his neck that she quickly and suddenly gripped in her knowing hands and tugged toward her.

"S'more like good morning, isn't it, Doctor?" The look in her eyes changed his step and the rest of her lipstick, as fated, was rubbed off against his mouth.

Her hand was offered and accepted, as always, as she stepped backwards into her room followed by the Doctor. And their dance was continued, with less silk and more skin, beyond the early morning.


End file.
